POEM

you and I have lived longer than so many have to live, and are thankful, yes?, and breathless with nostalgia and eyes brimming from memories of Holly-Days from when we were so much older then, we’re younger than that now, still...

there were toys. songs. trees lit and decorated. decorations all over the house. gifts and gifts and gifts...wrappings and tags and ribbons, and poinsettias everywhere on coffee tables. there was Suzy Snowflake and snowsuits and snow boots and wool scarves wound round and round. ice skates and sleds. the warming house. hot chocolate. too much candy. more turkey. there was midnight mass for some of us. there were hanukah candles for others, in our ‘grade’ at school... Santa was everywhere, and some kids cried on his lap. Mrs. Santa or some Elf were kind. department stores were full of retail wonders by the thousands, and we were all glad. we all belonged. even the poor among us were taken care of. Ebenezer Scrooge took care of that. Baby Jesus was happy birth-dated year after year, and the manger and animals and shepherds and wise men were all there. foods were plentiful, and Aunt Deda had poured so much brandy over the fruit cake, it was deliciously edible and kids like us really loved it, back in those days. the wreathes on all the doors were welcoming to a safety of a culture seeped in all these things, things to remind, to keep for tradition, to pass on to the kids, to be viewed as the decades go on, with tears at times, with smiles at others. with even the lights all over the cold-ing neighborhoods for miles, we’re reminded: we’re held to this earth by the fragility and the tensile strength of so many so precious things...all temporal, all passing...even the heaps of ashes from the yule log to remind us in testimony: what was with us goes out burning...and o, the entropy is bright, so bright, dear ones....